The women Who Rest in Eternity
by modern-wonder
Summary: His eyes. gold like the sun but so very far from it. his words, sharper than the knife he used to give them eternity. may he find rest in darkness for we shall give him none in the light. I do not own Naruto.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: Orochimaru Sannin.**

His name was Orochimaru Sannin. He was fifty-three and seven months old when he had been caught. Of course, not alive though.

His mangled, broken body had been discovered out in a wooden shack, just three miles from the road that was five miles from the city of Konoha. The police said it had been a sudden stroke that had had been caused by a falling piece of wooden tile that had pried itself loose from the roof. The coroners and the doctors had many medical terms for this type of bad luck, none of this mattered though.

He was well known before his unfortunate death. A scholar and a professor of science at the local university. he had been liked.

At twenty five he had graduated top honors in medicine and human anatomy. At thirty, he was majoring in human Psychology. He had never married, nor did he ever have children. The man was never without friends though.

A smooth talker and quite likeable. The two first most thoughts that people had thought when they met him.

He had the best room on campus, Orochimaru did. Filled with odds and end in which he had lectured his students on. A far-a-way look in his golden eyes whenever he talked about one. No one had thought it was odd. That he was odd.

Such blind ignorance.

But Orochimaru had secrets. Sick, twisted ideas that flowed without end, that warped the mind that had once been praised beyond reasoning. He had been a genius, all the way until his death. Maybe… that's why everything had happened like it did.

At twenty-five he had first killed. Thirty he was uncaught and filled with the lust for flesh and the kill.

This had been his favorite weapon. A smooth handled knife that was nearly five inches in length, from tip to butt. Made from oak and capped in razor sharp steel, he was a phantom that plagued the sleeping and waking worlds with equal fervor.

Till this day, nobody, not even the police knew the full story about the man who had once been apart of everyday life. Nobody, that is except the dead.

But this is not his story alone, in all actuality, it was all of ours. Our fates had all rested with him and all had ended with him as well. Because one careful moment had so suddenly caught up to us.

We just returned the favor back to him.


	2. chapter one: the doctor

**Chapter one. The doctor.**

Her name had been Tsunade Senju. A well to do intern at Konoha Mercy of Wellness Hospital. It had been cold on the night of her death. The ground, littered with fallen frost and tricky for the clumsy footed.

She had worn a red shawl over a green and beige dress.

It was the year 1990, October was just beginning and all along the streets were littered with jack-o-lanterns.

Her Fiancée of nearly two years, had waited up for her. Her shift at the Hospital ending at three. He had white hair, odd for a twenty seven old and two long lines that went down his face in red. A reminder of his previous gang life long before he had met Tsunade.

The minutes had blended into hours and the hours formed a day. She never showed.

When the knock had came at the door, he thought it was her, he hoped it was her. A sigh of relief hovered thinly over his lips as he turned the old fashioned brass knob. It creaked soundly as his dark grey eyes watched his hands. It opened.

"Jiraiya?" badges flashed gaudily in the scant light of the hallway. They mocked him as he stood frozen. Why had they come? Why?

It had been one day, three hours, sixteen minutes and forty-two seconds.

A bus driver on commercial highway seven had discovered her. Her body had been stabbed in thirteen places. Blood had covered the pretty green and beige dress, stained like the young women who had interned at the local hospital in her spare time.

A large chunk of her shawl was torn out. She was also missing a long lock of hair, indicated by the bloody spot on her scalp. She would have been twenty-two in a month, married in another year.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Asuma Sarutobi, newly minted detective on the now alleged murder, sat at his desk. A cigarette hung precariously from his mouth as he wrote his report. His mentor and partner, Shikaku Nara sat in front of him. A bored and almost lazy aura exuded from the slouched man.

He puffed his nicotine stick and rubbed his growing beard in thought. His eyes looked over to a small, grainy photo of a young woman in her early twenties. Asuma thought she was pretty.

Long blonde hair in two low ponytails framed a pointed - heart-shaped face. Eyes like brindled copper stared back as bow shaped lips pulled back and showed smiles tucked into their corners. Beside her stood her tall white-haired fiancée.

The woman, _Tsunade_ , he corrected himself; was young and certainly not wild. Definitely smart with a fierce strength…but would she have gone with someone she didn't know. Maybe, maybe not.

"hey Shikaku…old man?" he asked impatiently.

A slow turn of the head was his answer. That alone told him all he needed to know. They couldn't stay with the case. There was enough murders and rapes and thefts in the whole city, they couldn't limit themselves to one girl. Even if her family had been one of their fine homes founders. She was just one girl. And they were just a few men with nothing to go on.

Gritting his teeth he snapped the cancer stick between his lips as he returned to his work. Ahead of him he heard the slightly older male talking to himself as he worked. Asuma listened in for a minute before shrugging it off.

What snakes had to do with the police force, he couldn't guess.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Class…this is our newest student. I expect you all to be very kind to him as he has just moved here to our fair city. Please, stand up and introduce yourself." the aged professor stated after the morning announcement of Tsunade Senju's death.

A few seats back from the front, near the middle of the room, a young man stood up.

He was extremely pale almost to the point of being gray and very tall. His long black hair was pinned back away from his face as he straightened his clothes. Stark golden eyes watched the room full of silenced students with anticipation.

"hello. My name is Orochimaru Sannin. Please treat me well and I will do the same." he silky voice purred.

In a small leather satchel by his seat, a knife glittered hungrily as it sat beside a text book of into to anatomy. _soon_ it seemed to say.

Orochimaru couldn't have agreed more.


End file.
